Beta abating....?

My beta is running hot; Dr. Steve, my brain's fixer upper, thinks that I need a moment with someone who might help my psyche, another therapist. The "poor boy" will learn that it is its it. It has been twenty five years in the making; I do believe my brain's construct is what it is. For five years the system sentenced me to therapy for sexual deviant behavior. Think about it for a moment; you just got out of the joint; you need space so that you can find some sense of equilibrium. And the system turns you over to the cuckoo's nest. And every session -weekly, you get to listen to people dump all over you. That is right; you have to sit there and listen to the delusions that these poor lost souls have to endure. I would come out of those sessions in such a depressed state of mind. They wanted me to uncover the deep dark devil living inside of me, the devil that made me do it. That is what they wanted me to talk about, what was it that made you to want to do such a vile thing. No one ever thinks that you are innocent. If, you think that you are innocent, then the system will label you as being delusional. Why is this so? Because, you are in therapy; this is the world of labels. Within those five years I had many therapists; each one processed me according to their mind's eye; the labels mounted up, so that today, I can boast that I'm all over the board. For you see, my labels say that my labels have labels; that is how disturbed I am.  Anyway, I have Debbie's Corner to go to if I have an itch that needs to be scratched. Plus, Steve's problem is that he has to find a way to shut off my hot -beta. 

$1,000.00... a southern sex scandal.

Let us talk about my trial. OK. One of the witnesses lied to the jury; she testified to the jury that she met me at the Yachtsman the afternoon in question; she did not because I was with a  amateur hooker. She never met me like she testified to in the trial. I remember that day because that afternoon is what this story is all about: this is what I had in my pocket the morning that I went to pick up B.N.: I was going to prepay her the commission she could earn upon completion of any contract for timeshare/whole ownership. I was supposed to pick her up that morning and take her to a resort property on the beach which was under federal receivership. This was the property securing the red trading weeks for sale. But no, she was to busy. She  said, "Take my daughter down town to the midway" which I did. Now by chance, this is also where I live, directly across the street from Mother Fletcher's, the great den of sin; this is where I let her (the daughter) out and did not see her the rest of the day. And if my memory does not fail me, her daughter had a reputation of getting in trouble at Mother Fletcher's, on their teen dance day. The proprietor of Bodo's on 8th Avenue North told the daughter to call her mother up on the phone so that they could tell her that if she did not come down and get her daughter right now, they were going to call the police. They did not appreciate her soliciting,  her actions, as she was with the tourist. I was not there then; I arrived as she started screaming at her daughter, for the humiliation it was causing her. They -Bodo's-  said that she was acting badly and it was their family restaurant. Back to the story: I was going to give her $1000 for her financing. I offered up a little honey since she had told me on many occasions that for her, it was all about the money. And the "Printer," the man in town who owned the printing company had put up the money.  He had printed the flyers advertising time shares on the beach, and figured he would get his money back. The flyer was going out on the boxes of Dominoes piazzas being sold in Myrtle Beach. It was the flyer for the East West challenge, my advertising program to help promote timeshare resales along the beach, Myrtle Beach, SC.  We would be the cheapest place you could go and buy into the time share fantasy.  Anyway that is why I had the $1000 in cash. She never got the chance for the offer because she did not want to take the time; I kept the grand in my pocket.  So I know that she perjured herself because I was with a lady of the "time" - "if you have the money honey, I have got the time." She also had party favors; we got down you might say; Why do I remember this? I remember this because I'm a terrible piece of ass unless I'm coked out. She got $500 out of the $1000; I got her and the coke. She came into town to party and have someone else pay for it. She knew how to do this; she had to have the party favors. I bought half of that bag of hers that afternoon and shared it back with her; the best piece of ass, it was marked into my brain. I'll never forget that piece of ass. So, she can not convince me that I was somewhere when I was not; I was not behind the Yachtsman  that afternoon. No! She perjured herself  out of spite and money; rumor is she was approached by someone who wanted me out of town -a southern sex scandal.      

Charlie Yeo.........yeo man.

 We all know that the "fix" is in, only if you do not get caught. And this is the theme: when you live life outside of the neighborhood, your comfort zone. Well then, you should know that you are going to get caught because you live by the instinct of self best interest; this is where life becomes gray. Not the gray matter between your ears, but for sure, it is similar. Because, you are here in life to be creative, yet you are not always truthful unless you believe in what others told you to say. For example, you are selling greed; you believed in what the leprechaun told you to say about the greed;  because you work for the leprechaun, and he promised to make you rich. Welcome to America, the shining world under the star on top of the hill. That reminds me of another myth - this is the urban legend about three kings who are looking for the leprechaun being born under the big star in the old world, not like today in the new world order, America. This was the leprechaun Jesus; and his followers are not so sure either about their understanding of how the "fit" will work for them. New world or old world self best interest will win out only if you do not get caught, one hundred percent of the time. Now since I'm not a leprechaun, I'm not selling you any insurance against your way of life because you live in a cesspool. Systems that govern are all cesspools made up of political actors who control the power to govern. You gave them permission to fuck all over you when you subjugated your vote to those actors who live in the world of self best interest right alone side of you. You just do not live in their neighborhood. You can not see their house form your house. Or, for what ever tidbit of information this means, you can not see their house from any other house in your neighborhood.  PS. When I was young, it was Charlie Yeo who lived across the street from my house; I'm dam sure you can not see any actor's house from his house -Yeo man.
      

Pirates' joy...It's all about status.

So the Devil said,  " It never hurts to stack the deck." And what a deck it is indeed; pick up the paper, any paper professing to be the rag of the day. There you will find out about the bottom line, death or near death on every slice of whatever it is that you slice and dice to cull your share. In the old days you could find a good democracy on board any one of the vessels scavenging off the coast. Yes, that was the pirates' way. Today it is only one of those fleeting fantasies that you out there in blogging land want to hold onto so you too can go to the islands and establish a tax free way of freeing yourself form helping those that are less able to function due to their status or lack of it in this new world order. Give me what I want when I want it; I want it to be tax free because I earned it you see with only a little bit of help from my family. Our way or the highway has been here since the good old days when the family deemed what the good old days were all about, before the dirt under your finger nails started to sprout some form of mischievous idea about equality. Walk the fucking plank if you do not want to sail with me; this is not the good ship 'lolly pop' where you have a say about how things work; I choose the port of call; you tend to the rigging. This is my deck, you see.  

Dancing the..."Can Can"...I knew I could.

 To be or not to be formal is another circus under the "big-top." I say to be informal is a good place to start: theblackmarket.me is only formal about your privacy; otherwise, the "fix" is in. This is the stage of yes, not the stage of no. Your Easy Side is "our easy side." It is all about yes you can; it's  dancing the "can can,"go see if you can. This is seeing if you can get justice out of the system; it's not a quixotic aspiration; it's social justice. Getting your needs met is very iffy for an inmate when he is not grounded. The basic four(4) foot square that you might consider your is never owned by the inmate; the space that he occupies is rented space and each step he takes is coveted by another inmate trying to get his needs met.

Now for the story about teaching inmates how to want to learn when the environment's choices are stunted. We are dealing with roughly 1250(+ or -) inmates who are all in their own orbit moving in and out of a steady diet of mayhem. It's an environment of quicksand; each moment's calamity sucks you deeper into another quagmire vetted with its own unique demons. Now here is the trick: allow the brain to find its image amongst others; this will allow the mind to settle down, allowing the brain to develop a new staged environment in its mind so that the inmate can mature. Teaching the inmate how to be a learner, not a mimicker, will assure him that his brain can come up with a viable solution to life's problems because he can communicate within more than one range and domain - critical think. You do this through stories; stories that are relevant to the inmate; stories that will help the inmate to move more freely around inside his own imagination. The "icicle garden" is very sophisticated, yet at the same time very primal; it all depends on the circumstances, or situations at hand. For example, vocabulary can be a game changer, teaching an inmate that there are words out there that will describe what he is trying to say to himself. This vocabulary will help his mind to be more quiet because it fosters assurance, therefore hope. If you wish to get one of our "social justice"  t-shirts "just e-mail us at balanceincr@me.com.

"the bill"

There is no way to pay back the cost of services. The favor that serendipity brought about. This is what you want to discern so that you are not negligent in your responsibilities to pass on to others the synergy of your debts; as they say, "pass it on."I believe that it is a waste of energy to project my own shit; when it happens it has its tangential habit of retrofitting back on itself, creating more garbage. What about you? Have you ever considered the consequences of your negligence? What is negligence? It's your "shit" composting because you are not a redeemer. But, you find comfort in it anyway. So, now you too kick the can down the road until you need redemption. Side bar: I have to tell you this story. I was president of a small bible school, Pecos Valley Christian College in Roswell, NM., on the way to being consequential, yet not getting there. One of the staffers said to me that he was a  Southern Baptist; he was baptized, therefore, the fix was in. The question I asked him was: Don't you think that you are taking an advantage of this situation, the womanizing. He made no connection between his "fix" based on Southern Baptist -baptism, and how he conducted himself. So! Back to the story of when you are in need of redemption: You have no shame because you do not think about it; you know it; you are not open to thinking about its interconnected synergistic values. For, if you did, you too would be asking for redemption; so, I think that you think that what it is all about is believing in the urban legion of the -papal Bull. It came out as one of the reasons over the Protestant Reformation; some believe that it caused the reformation. In reflection: it is better to own a needle than scissors, because the needle can mend the tear. Scissors can only make a permanent separation never restoring it to being whole, like the needle. "The needle can stitch two halves back together; making a "whole" so that you can crawl through and escape with your new $500 dollar get out of jail quick card.

today's .....?

You are not going to believe this but this is the first time that I lost a blog. Right!  It was there and than it was gone! I had a blank page in front of me - this page that I'm writing on now,  just a moment ago it was a partially completed blog. I was blogging about the three legs, stools of the system, like the chair metaphor. There was Law, Order and Church each a separate odoriferous force; when all three come down upon you it is pungent to say the least. Yes, the question is how to fight back when their spin is a negative enforcer to foster hate upon yours truly. If they would allow me to publish my side of the story, my situation would surely change for the better- theirs not so well because their stench runs very deep indeed in this particular context. Anyway! When you are a political prisoner -that is me; you are shut off from society's market place; Therefore, you have no income. If the courts will not listen to you, what do you do? I say, "You form a labor union for those felons who have been denied access to the market place of life's dreams." This is a labor issue; there needs to be a union's force -theblackmarket.me- on the table before there will be any attempt at social justice.  Now, if I were a union than I could get benefits for my losses do to the need that society has to deny me my rights of equality. Maybe, I should or could get unemployment for life; non-felons get everything, This is the question: Where is their Christian God? Nietzsche said "God is dead."  Maybe the problem was in the fact that there was anyone out there in the first place that would even follow along with such a shallow force, as demonstrated through its inaction. Maybe, God never existed: I'm wondering  how God will last as the "urban legend."